<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Love isn't real by TheCrimsonValley</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22754206">Love isn't real</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrimsonValley/pseuds/TheCrimsonValley'>TheCrimsonValley</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dorks in Love, Drama &amp; Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Romance, Valentine's Day, the marvellous misadventures of dutch doesn't have a plan der linde, vandermatthews</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:13:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22754206</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrimsonValley/pseuds/TheCrimsonValley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dutch van der Linde, despite his young age, is a talented man when it comes to giving passionate speeches. However, as he philosophies about the True Meaning of Love, he makes an unfortunate remark, one that Hosea doesn't fail to notice and finds himself very hurt about. It is now up to Dutch to realize and make up for his mistake and he isn't very much helped by a snarky 22 years old Arthur Morgan and an antsy 12 years old John Marston.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Love isn't real</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hosea was angry. Arthur could recall that he had seen this generally mild mannered and well versed man a tad miffed before, even thumbing onto slightly upset but this was different. He was fuming to the degree in which even Susan kept her distance, instead choosing to rushing about pestering John with a heap of scoldings for trying to sneak into the food preserves once more. </p>
<p>Sitting over by the camp fire, Arthur threw a little glance towards one of the men that had helped in much of his raising. Only Hosea's back was visible but it seemed he was absorbed in whatever task he had taken up, loud mutters and mumbles rising from him in irregular intervals. </p>
<p>While scratching the back of his neck, Arthur rose to his feet, making sure to pour two mugs of coffee. In his mind he had been debating if he should even approach, perhaps it would be better to allow this storm to blow over on its own. It was the more sympathetic thoughts that had won. Hosea was clearly agitated out of his mind to the point where it seemed to bring him a good bit of dismay. How many times had the older man not been there for him when he had been in a similar state. It was just some overdue return of the same kindness. </p>
<p>Taking a few steps closer he caught sight of Susan observing him. She had just about caught onto the collar of young John's shirt and was halfway through the gesture of tugging him over towards the washing bin. Their eyes did meet for a split second and Arthur thought he could detect that small warmth in them, the one that indicated to him of how thankful she was for him intervening.</p>
<p>As he got closer, he could finally make out a few words that were uttered on such a low and rumbling tone it almost drowned out towards the surface of the table over which Hosea remained hunched. Sentences such as “I'll show you, you bloody bastard” and “you complete moron” seemed to be just a few which were actually completely audible. Clearing his throat, Arthur took the last steps, raising the mugs as an almost timid gesture of peace. </p>
<p>He watched as Hosea raised his glance, studying him for a few seconds before grunting out a “sit down”. Doing as he was told, Arthur curiously peeked at what the other man was so deeply entranced by. It did little to clear the situation. </p>
<p>Spread out between Hosea's arms were several pencils, some of them of the fancy ink variety, along with papers in various shades of red and pink. The entire scene was nothing but peculiar. Whatever it was that was keeping his father figure so occupied, it was a job that the older man didn't take too lightly on. </p>
<p>“You... doin' a little craft project there?” Arthur asked, trying to add his general sideways grin. </p>
<p>The reception of his attempt at encouragement was lukewarm, Hosea just moving his hand out to grab the extra cup of coffee and down half of it in a matter of seconds. </p>
<p>“It's a gift” the older man then answered as he started to rather furiously cut out delicate flower patterns out of an especially deep crimson red paper “a gift for this camp's greatest idiot!” </p>
<p>A small moment of enlightenment finally came over Arthur as he could not suppress another smile, finding relief in the fact that Hosea was too upset to even notice it. A squabble. That was what got the most collected man of their small gang so up in arms. It hadn't really been a first and he was certain it wouldn't be the last but there were no stopping his own amusement at how a man Hosea's age could get so incredibly worked up because of something Dutch had said. </p>
<p>Realizing that the word exchange had done little but fuel his mentor's anger further, Arthur cleared his throat, turning his mug between his fingers. Acting as a bringer of peace wasn't really something he had perfected, neither did he expect to ever have to but he knew for a fact that Susan wasn't going to step in between this. More than once she had been the one scolding the two older men for acting like a bunch of scorned teenage lovers. </p>
<p>“You know Dutch” Arthur said with the best honey voice he could summon “he says more than he means, it's just his fancy words, Hosea.” </p>
<p>“Oh I'll show him just where he can shove his fancy words!” </p>
<p>With vigour, Hosea slammed the flowers down onto a small patch of glue, the card before him coming together little by little. Biting the inside of his cheek, Arthur was about to try his second attempt when his eyes settled onto the figure of Dutch, approaching them with the same casual and careless expression as always. In a small act of desperation, he tried to seek the man's gaze only to feel his guts twist in frustration as there only came a cheerful smile onto Dutch's lips. </p>
<p>“What's this now? Still teaching him how to read?” </p>
<p>As Dutch's hand made contact with Hosea's shoulder, Arthur could feel how he instinctively moved just a few inches back. He felt certain that he could almost feel Hosea emitting heat, his eyes looking so furious as he rose from his chair. The movement was so quick that the chair he had been seated onto fell over, causing Dutch, despite all his confidence, to take a quick step back. </p>
<p>“Here!” Hosea hissed out as he shoved the card into Dutch's chest “you moron!” </p>
<p>Before anyone in camp could get their bearings, Hosea had stormed off, still cursing as he disappeared out of their views. Arthur soon moved his eyes from looking after him and instead back towards Dutch who stood as if frozen, mouth gaping and hands meekly holding onto the card. </p>
<p>“Well, you gonna open it or not?” Arthur said with a sigh as he rose to his feet. </p>
<p>He wasn't even certain that Dutch had fully heard him but still obeyed. Finally able to take a gander at this marvellous craft project, Arthur first and foremost took note of what amount of time had been put into it. There were cut out flowers as well as delicately inked birds and hearts. In the middle of it it all, in a cursive handwriting that would have made the highest of noblemen jealous were the words “Love isn't real – Dutch van der Linde”.  </p>
<p>It was as if he could hear the cogs in Dutch's head turn. The older man looked down at the letter, then out into thin air, then back onto the letter: repeating the gesture a good couple of times. When something finally seemed to sink in, the only thing he uttered was a low curse. </p>
<p>“You told him that?”</p>
<p>Arthur gave a disapproving look towards the man before him. He wasn't well versed in his mentor's love business but even he could figure out that this wasn't a sentiment that would give any romantic sparks.  </p>
<p>Swooping in by their side came Susan who nimbly tugged the card out of Dutch's hands. Reading the words she soon came to give just as much a judgemental look as Arthur himself had. Somewhere he was certain that, had John mastered his reading abilities, even the little half feral kid would have been disappointed. </p>
<p>“Now listen here” came Dutch's defence “he took it out of context, I was just...” </p>
<p>“You were just doing what you always do, using your honey words without thinking” Susan huffed. </p>
<p>For a short moment, it seemed like the older man was about to derail into a speech of defence as if he had been a man in court but the realisation of more dire matters at hand seemed to catch up with him. </p>
<p>“Yeah, I agree with Miss Grimshaw” Arthur said with a shrug of his shoulders “you really went and screwed yourself over there.” </p>
<p>“Thank you for the vote of confidence son.” </p>
<p>Dutch's eyes were staring intently straight ahead, towards the point where Hosea had disappeared. They seemed filled with a regret that made Arthur himself have a small bit of pity for his mentor. </p>
<p>“Well don't just stand there!' Susan hissed “he's going to be unbearable to be around so you better figure something out to make this up to him.” </p>
<p>“Like what?” Dutch muttered. </p>
<p>“You'll come up with something Dutch, you're real good at doing that.” </p>
<p>Arthur felt unable to repress a snigger at the comment. This granted him a death glare from the other man and a mutter of “Get the horses ready... and not a word”. </p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>The ride had not been as giving as Dutch had hoped. His original plan had only involved grabbing Arthur for some damned directions around the place but of course Susan had insisted on them bringing John too: something about how she would not be held responsible for her actions if she were left alone to take care of both the camp and a feral child. This had meant a lot of whining from the child once they were in town, mostly of why he was not allowed to devour the hand picked sweets. </p>
<p>With their ride starting to come towards its end, he sighed. Had he not grown older and wiser? How badly had he formulated that speech to have Hosea all worked up like that. It was thoughts he kept tightly to himself, of course. Arthur already had enough snark material on his own, there were no need to feed them further.</p>
<p>Arriving back at the camp site, he made sure to tell Arthur to keep John away from his tent, though it seemed his words were taken with a pinch of salt as of now. Hurrying over towards the washing bin, Dutch knew that he would never get to live this down. He wasn't so sure yet if he deserved to live it down or not but that was a matter for another day. For now, all he could wrap his mind around was to fix this, no matter what it would take. </p>
<p>Tugging his fingers through his hair, he made sure to at least glance at himself in the mirror before grasping the gifts, all quite cliché in nature yet the best he could muster with such a short notice. Taking off down the small trampled paths, he was struck by the thought that this was the first time that he had bought a bouquet of flowers for Hosea. Before that there had been hand picked things but nothing as extravagant as this. It had put a deep dent in his pocket and yet it felt worth it.</p>
<p>He decided to follow the stream. He had learnt one thing through their years together and that was that whenever Hosea was upset or needed a breather it seemed that water was where he would take off to. Moving slowly along the larger stream, Dutch tried to rehearse in his head. It needed to be a good apology this time, that he felt in his bones. </p>
<p>Stepping into a light clearing, he soon caught sight of Hosea seated on a large rock right by the bank. It appeared that his companion had taken to throwing small twigs into the rushing waters and observing them being carried off. Clearing his throat a tad, he took notice of the other man turning his head barely an inch before turning it back towards the waters. </p>
<p>“Can we speak?” </p>
<p>“Oh you do that” came Hosea's answer, his tone dripping with as much anger as hurt “you're real good at that!” </p>
<p>The line cut deep and Dutch allowed it to do so. A little nudge at the ego builds character. Those had been kinder words from this man whom he had such adoration for yet couldn't always wrap his head around. For most of his life, he was used to having a charismatic power over others but with Hosea it was the opposite. He was quite certain that the other man had no idea just how strong that hold was. </p>
<p>“It wasn't a good line” Dutch answered as he slowly approached “real clumsy.” </p>
<p>Hosea just huffed, throwing another stick into the waters. Dutch counted it a small victory that the stick had not been aimed at his face. Gently he put the basket down from his arm as he moved the last few inches between them. </p>
<p>“I'm sorry, I truly am.” </p>
<p>“You're good at being sorry...”</p>
<p>Another score was won for Hosea's side and Dutch felt he could do little more than nod in agreement. No matter how he tried, his position as leader of their strange little family of misfits meant many missteps along the road. </p>
<p>Deciding to rather go out bold and brash than to stand about with his nerves in a bunch, he kneeled down by Hosea's side. Glancing at the other man's eyes he felt his heart pinch, seeing the faint traces of tears upon his cheeks. Softly he reached forward, happy to see his companion not tugging back from his fingers drying what remained of them. </p>
<p>“I'm sorry” Dutch murmured “think you can forgive me for that?” </p>
<p>“I don't know where you get those ideas from” Hosea answered on a sigh “you never think further than your own nose length.” </p>
<p>Silence fell between them, only the sound of the stream keeping them company before the man by his side decided to speak up once more. </p>
<p>“If love isn't real, then what are we?” </p>
<p>Hosea's words came to feel like a bullet piercing his skin and without a moment of hesitation, Dutch rose to his feet, grasping the other man's face in his hands before pushing their lips together. Hearing a surprised yet muffled sound from Hosea, he tugged back, showering the other man's cheeks and forehead with kisses, ignoring the light laughter and half hearted beg to “Stop acting like a fool!”. </p>
<p>“This is not love” Dutch murmured with his fingers gently cupping Hosea's chin “this is so much more, this can't be put into words, this is greater than any love song or poetry ever printed in the time of man.” </p>
<p>He watched how Hosea's eyes seemed to widen in amazement, at first carrying that same glossy nature but then there came a loud laughter out of the man's lips. Within a few seconds he was engulfed in his companion's warm embrace and, seizing the opportunity, he held on tight, spinning him around in a half circle before letting him down once more. </p>
<p>“What am I to do with you?” Hosea murmured, his fingers sliding along Dutch's cheek “how can I stay mad when you use your viper words like that?” </p>
<p>“You think that I am persuasive now” Dutch said, making a sweeping gesture towards the basket “just you wait.” </p>
<p>With pride he watched how the other man moved over towards it, uttering a “Dutch this is worth a fortune!” yet not protesting any of the gifts further than that. His mind seemed to finally come back from the thousand miles trail of thoughts it had been derailing off into. Hosea was smiling again and that was all that mattered. The coin would come but he would never find company quite as this ever gain, of that he felt certain. </p>
<p>“Dutch?” </p>
<p>“Yes love?” </p>
<p>“Is there any particular reason why you've brought me an empty box of chocolates?” </p>
<p>The question caught him completely off guard and, his mouth slightly open, he turned towards Hosea who stood there, gently waving the expensive heart shaped box about to show its content had been mercilessly ripped out. </p>
<p>“John Marston!” Dutch shouted towards the camp's general direction, words that, despite their velocity were almost drowned out in the loud laughter of Hosea.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>